Les plus lus ▸Yone NoguchiHokku 71The nightingales under the boughs, Sighing now white, now red, Sing a pearl song Over the greyness of earth.Lire le poèmeApprendre par cœur
ContemplatifHazel HallLate WinterI am content with latticed sights: A lean grey bough, a frill Of filmy cloud, the shadow-lights Upon a window-sill. I am content in wintered days With all my eyes may meet. April, when you dance down these ways Hush your awakening feet.